The Boy is a white flame suspiring in prayer.
"Men, Women and Ghosts" by Amy Lowell
Buck Mulligan suspired amorously.
"Ulysses" by James Joyce
As they swung open and the cool night breeze blew in his face, a great suspiration of relief passed from him.
"The Weavers, Complete" by Gilbert Parker
Suddenly he began to cry, shockingly, with deep stertorous suspirations.
"Tutt and Mr. Tutt" by Arthur Train
Mr. Pollock heard the suspiration, looked up, and laughed.
"The Free Rangers" by Joseph A. Altsheler
For the monarch suddenly sank back into his chair, and a long, loud suspiration of relief came from him.
"Man of Many Minds" by E. Everett Evans
Between pulls he would suspire deeply, so as to get the full assistance of the Climate.
"Ade's Fables" by George Ade
The girl's voice trembled, her breath came so hard Morgan could hear its suspiration where he stood.
"Trail's End" by George W. Ogden
The unheard rhythmical suspiration of the Universe.
"The Masque of the Elements" by Herman Scheffauer
The Chief suspired on his settee.
"The Sea and the Jungle" by H. M. Tomlinson
The roar of the multitude failed in a vast suspiration of surprise and bewildered delight.
"Saul of Tarsus" by Elizabeth Miller
O'er the wood's brow,
Pale, the moon stares;
In every bough
Faintly suspire. . . .
"O'er The Wood's Brow" by Paul Verlaine
What did we gain? What did we lose?
Be still; grief for the pious dead
Suspires from bosoms of kind souls
Lavender-wise, propped up in bed.
"Elegy" by Allen Tate
Earth turned in her sleep with pain,
Sultrily suspired for proof:
In at heaven and out again,
Lightning!—-where it broke the roof,
Bloodlike, some few drops of rain.
"A Serenade At The Villa" by Robert Browning
But I hear thy voice at midnight, smiting the awful silence
With the long suspiration of thy pain suppressed;
And all the blue lagoons, and all the listening islands
Shuddering have heard, and locked thy secret in their breast!
"The Voice of Many Waters" by Kate Seymour Maclean
Oh, summer-night of the South! Oh, sweet languor of zephyrs love-sighing!
Oh, mighty circuit of shadowy solitude, holy and still!
Music scarce audible, echo-less harmony joyously dying,
Dying in faint suspirations o'er meadow, and forest, and hill!
"Night" by James Brunton Stephens